Newspaper Page Text
THE) MILLER'S MAID.
JT. E. Brooks In San Francisco News-Letter.
Nature, ever tickle jade,
Squandering treasure on the maid
Of the mill;
Gave her eyes of such‘rare blue
That her soul kept peeping through
“ Will-ke-IM."
On his handsome chestnut-brown
Sat the heir of-half the town.
Reining In his horse enchanted with the vision
ontbe hill;
Fresh from college halls was ho;
Fell in love?—Well let me see—
But the story's told much sweeter by the Maiden
of the Mill l
“But he knew not what to say,
So he asked of me the way •
To the mill;
It was just to make me speak.
For it stood there by the creek
’Neath the hill!
It is dilTlcult to frown
On such loving eyes and brown,
So I raised my arm and pointed just a moment
down the hill;
All he did was stand and stare
At my white arms, plump and bare,
Xill I had to doubt this handsome fellow's busi
ness at the mill!
“Since you have no grist to grind
Why so anxious, sir. to find
Father’s mill?
But tho mill you’ll never see
While you stand and gaze at me—
Think you will?"
Then 1 thought I heard him say
Ashe threw a kiss this way:
1 think I see the building at the bottom of the
hill!’
But I threw his kisses back
While I bade him get a sack
And take his many kisses to bo ground up at
the mill!
brings a grist each day
Which he never takes away
From the mill;
When I ask the reason why
He will smile and make reply:
‘ When you will!'
It is plain as plain can be
By his grist he’s meaning me.
tor my heart is ground up finer than the corn
within the mill;
And he says his gold he’ll share
For the gold that’s in my hair!
Will I wed him? Well, I’m human, and I rather
think I will!"
MORNING NEWS LIBRARY, NO. 80.
PRA OF THEIDfRONDACKS.'
BY ANNE E. ELLIS.
AUTHOR OF “THEM WOMEN,” ETC.
[Copyrighted, 18S7, by J. H. Kstill.]
CHAPTER XXVII.
Earl Beaeonsfield had not grown more
moody and silent since his separation from
his son—ah, no! his was a pride too doep for
that—and he went and came as if Sir Ar
thur had never lived.
The doors of his ancestral halls were
thrown more widely open than before, and
the walls echoed with tho laugh of the fre
quent guest or with the revellers at the ban
quet. If tho Earl felt any regrets he did
not show them to outward observers.
Notwithstanding his hauteur he could not
help but read of the fame and success of tho
young artist, and there was a slightly per
ceptible raising of the head and proud kind
ling of tho eye as he perused the hues full of
praises of his son with which the journals
were teeming.
Not so his lady wife—for, although there
was the same sweetness, the same gentle
ness, tho same quiet dignity—yet there was
a wistfulness of the eye; a gradual paling of
the cheek and a languor that told of inward
suffering.
The frequent letters of Sir Arthur and
Nora—the latter of whom she was growing
to love most fondly—were all that gave her
strength to endure her sorrow.
The Countess would gladly have visited
her boy, but she feared her husband’s dis
pleasure and knew full well if he discovered
even the stealthy visit she had made Sir
Arthur before himself and Nora left Dome
Gudenongh’s that it would cause an irrep
arable breadth between them.
The birth of her grandson gave the Coun
tess sweet pleasure, and she longed more than
ever to fold the little one in her arms.
Hut as she could not go herself she sent
the faithful Margaret, who hail long de
sired to visit her Scottish home, and made
that the excuse for her leaving; and the
Earl never knew that she had first gone to
Italy to visit her “boimie boy” and his sweet
young wife, and enfold this new nursling in
her arms.
And then came news that Lord Dudly had
found Arthur’s retreat, and the great inter
est lie had taken in the young man and his
little family; and the Countess’ heart over
fiowed with thankfulness that her hoy had
found a friend in ono of the friends of his
childhood.
Alnrgarot returned from hor Scottish trip
—as the Eari thought it —with glowing ac
counts to her lady of the beauty and gentle
ness of Norn ami the pretty winsomeness of
the baby bqy. Never was such a child in
Margaret’s eyes —and its grandmother list
ened with tears of joy to nurse’s glowing
description of its pretty baby ways and the
devotion of Lord Dudly to his godson and
adopted children.
How the Countess longed to clasp this
dear daughter and grandson to her heart —
and how she yearned for her sou, but she
knew it could not bo now.
Tho Earl bereft of the pride of his heart
tbrew himself into other pursuits.
His art gallery had long lieon tho fame of
liis neighborhood, for its exquisite statuary
and paintings, and he used Ins surplus iii
como that lie bail expended so freely on his
son toward nddmg to bis already magnifi
cent collection. The neighlioring gentry
visited the gallery often and’ frequently in
troduced strangers, so that it was seldom un
occupied.
The Earl often joined these art lovers mid
took tin- greatest pleasure in showing to his
guests these exquisite gems.
W hether by accident or design several of
Sir Arthur’s paintings and statues found
their way into the hull. Their true artistic
hi- rit and exquisite design and coloring won
universal praise.
(i The latest acquisitions wore a statue of
‘Aeantha” and a painting of anew fancy
for the Madonna and the child.
'I he statue, had it not have been for tho
unnut ural coldness of the pure white mar
elf, seemed ulmost endowed with life, so
graceful was the pose of the head and the
kfuuty of the features.
1 lie .Madonna was anew departure, repre
senting the mother with lair hair and blue
ej '-s. with a hulo surrounding the golden
head; while the face was jwgitivoly an
gelic ns she gazed at tho tiny infant in her
anr.?.
Ail raved about these new additions, and
it was seldom the gallery was without lovers
of art.
As yet tho Countess had not seen them —
tut one day, during the temporary abs nco
the Earl und when the clouds let down
flicir burden in such torrents as to preclude
the possibility of guests, the Countess in
Company with Murgaret strolled through
the gallery. They moved from oue gem to
the other until they stood in front of the
Madonna,
The Countess’ eyes restod upon the faces
the fair young mother and her child with
admiration"
Marguret gazed upon them speechless for
& Setsiml and then cried:
‘My lady! my lady 1”
The Countess turned to her in wonder.
"Do you lia see it, my lady?” asked nurse,
pointing to tho picture.
"W*ut, .Margaret 1” asked tho Counteas,
looking at the painting.
‘Do you na see 11 >—Lady Nora and little
A -r} lur ' c *phdned Margaret.
The likcni'ht to the daughter xho had seen
Httlo of dawned upon her, and examining
'no corner of tho canvas she road the name
“t Uazcoiteifcht"
The Countess fell upon her knees and
gazed with streaming eyes upon the fea
tures of this sweet daughter and darling
grandchild that she so longed for ami
dared not have. O, what would she give to
be with her son and his sweet wife and
child! She had loved Lady Betty and
longed to call her "daughter”—but this
sweet girl she almost idolized, and every hour
was a continual craving for her gentle pres
ence—low-birth, interest, all were forgotten
save the sweet, angelic face.
The Countess was aroused from her rev
erie by another cry from Margaret. She
arose from her knees and hastened to where
nurse was standing before the marble figuro
of “Aeantha.”
In that also she saw the sweet, perfect fea
tures of Nora.
"O, Margaret !" cried the Countess, looking
up at the pure, white figure; "how my boy
must idolize his wife to make her like that f”
“Indeed he does, my lady! indeed he does!
Ye bae not seen them as 1 liae done, or you
would wonder more. But do not greet, my
lady—all wili come right in His good time,”
said Margaret, raising her eyes toward
heaven with pious fervor.
“God graut it, nurse,” murmured her
lady.
“An’ He will! an’ He will! So do na greet,
but abide His time. You sweet face will
plead for itself.”
“But I become so impatient, Margaret—
the: time seems so long.”
“Then strive to be patient like yerself,
nursling—for my heart tells me the time is
na long. Think you, my child,” said the old
woman, taking her lady’s shapely hand in
her own large, strong palm, and looking
wistfully into the sad, pale face, “think
you my lord brought that here (pointing to
Aeantha’) and that! (turning to the pic
ture) if there be not some change ?”
“Margaret, can it be!” cried the Countess,
her eyes lighting with a ray of hope. “But
then perhaps he did not know.”
“Not know, lassie? Look there,” replied
Margaret, pointing to the name on the base
of the figure, and then gently leading her
back to the Madonna and showing her a
name in the comer of the canvas, “look
there. Your gude man’s eyes are good yet,
and that name never escaped them; and”the
pipers are full of the praises of Sir Arthur
Beaeonsfield, the artist.”
As Margaret finished a gladsmile lit up
the Countess’ featuijjs, and, taking nurses
arm, she returned to her apartments with a
lighter step, for now felt sure that the
charm of the angelic face of the American
Nora had begun to work even upon the
proud heart of tho Earl.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Lady Betty, or Bertha, as her baptismal
name really was, but her father had given
her the pet njune of “Betty,” now felt her
self to be free, hand and heart; and Count
Alsleigh soon saw the difference in her al
tered manner toward himself. There was
no more repelling his attentions and he was
divinely happy.
And Betty, save a certain shyness which
Eroceeded from tho knowledge of loving and
eing loved, placed such confidence and
sweet trustfulness in her devoted lover that
it was not many weeks ere he was referred to
Lord Ernst who gave his consent willingly
and gladly; and indeed with a different feel
ing from that he had experienced when he
had thought Betty the fiancee of Sir Ar
thur.
Tho engagement was soon imparted to her
Grace, the Duc-hoss, and through her it was
publicly announced.
Many were the congratulations showered
upon them, and many were the regrets and
heartaches caused by Lady Betty securing
the prize for whom so many had striven.
But all acknowledged that it was a
splendid match, and the society journals
were full of praises of the betrothed.
Even tho Queen sent the bride-elect a
memento of her kind regards and a beauti
ful India shawl.
Every preparation was made for a speedy
wedding, and her Grace delighted in assist
ing to prepare the magnificent trousseau.
Neither expouse nor trouble was spared
and a princely fortune was expended.
Magnificent and costly presents were sent
from every direction —diamonds, pearls,
laces as fine" as a mist, paintings, statuary—
indeed, everything that could be thought of
was beautiful and attractive.
The wedding was solemnized in the Cathe
dral, and seldom did that edifice contain
such an array of fashion and beauty.
Tho bride with her rich brunette beauty,
arrayed in flowing robes of costly white
satin and veil of rich lace falling gracefully
from the well-formed aristocratic head with
its crown of blue-black tresses and orange
blossoms and her ornaments, the family
jewels of her husband’s family sparkhng in
their magnificent splendor—for such jewels
as the Afeleigh’s had never been seen in the
United Kingdom (excepting those belonging
to the Crown) —the bride, I say, leaning on
the arm of her handsome, stately father—
the Count with her grace, tall, manly and
handsome—and the Duchess—her line pres
ence creating a feeling of veneration in all
who behold her.
Indeed, tho whole bridal party, rendered
even more attractive by the host of richly
attired dames and noble lords with which
the Cathedral was filled, was a scene that
would not soon be forgotten.
The wedding over, the happy couple start
ed on a tour accompanied by Lord Ernst.
Lady Betty had told her husband of Ar
thur’s marriage aud her desiro to visit and
befriend his low-born wife—and ho, al
though like Ix>rd Ernst opposed to the
mesalliance, promised to throw no obstacle
in the way, aud to assist asr far as he was
able by befriending the young artist and his
wife to reconcile the father and sou.
After spending some months in travel the
wedding party found themselves in Flor
ence.
CHAPTER XXIX.
Sir Arthur and his little family, consist
ing of Lord Dudly and Nora, were in the
morning room one lovely day entertaining
guests —an Italian nobleman aud his wife
who wore making an early call.
Little Arthur, who had grown to be a
sturdy, romping boy of 2 years, notwith
standing the uugust presence of strangers,
was making bold attempts to draw “grand
pa” into a frolic, much to tho amusement of
Ijord Dudly and distress of his fair young
mother.
Lady Nora was looking as angelically
beautiful as ever, and not the slightest evi
dence of low-birth visible in either manner
or speech.
Sir Arthur had no occasion to be
ashsuned of bis wife—ave, ho was proud of
i. er _for society raved about his sweet wife
and hor graceful, pretty ways—indeed,
placed a* she was now, bad her husband not
Lave secured her princes would have striven
to snatch tho prize from him.
fjir Arthur aud Lord Dudly had read tho
glowing accounts of the wedding of Lady
Betty now Countess Alsleigh. Noru had
listened to the reading, but knew nothing
of the engagement between the young
Countess and'her own iloar husband.
“What new arrivals have wo, bignor;”
asked Arthur of the Italian.
"Ah! have vou not heard?” replied tho
guest, lifting 'liis eyebrows in surprise.
“No—any one of interest !"
“Yes, one of your countrymen with a
charming daughter and husband.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Lord Dudly, inter
ested also, in spit: of the frantic attempts of
little Arthur to climb over his shoulder and
pull liis whiskers.
“Who is ho, may I ask I" said Arthur.
Nora was conversing with tho Higuora
and did not notice tho topic of interest among
the gentlemen.
“Lord Ernst, Count Alsleigh and tho
young Countess,” replied the Hignor.
The words had not more than been spoken
when the cards of Lord Ernst and the
Count and Countess were banded to Arthur
with a desire for a call from himself aud
wife.
bir Arthur read thorn with pleasure and
handed tb'-m to Lady Nora.
Nom was as much pleased as her artist,
husband with tho manifestation of interest
from his English friends; she know he had
many other.*, but they were not to him as
those ho bad known in his boyhood.
Tho estrangement of his fustier on her ac
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, AUGUST 7, 1887.
count was a cause of great sorrow to her,
but she was sincorely glad his other friends
hud not deserted him.
“Signor, your words give me much joy
—these people are old friends and X have
just received their cards do yisite,” said
Arthur.
“I am glad, most glad,” returnod the
Italian with true Italiaa generosity.
The guests departed and Nora hastened to
attire herself for accompanying her hus
band and Lord Dudly on a visit io the Coun
tess Alsleigh.
She soon reappeared attired in an ex
quisite costume, which well became her
bright sweet loveliness.
Lord Dudly handed her into the carriage
and then entered himself, followed by Sir
Arthur.
During the ride the young man was try
ing to picture to himself how his old play
mate would look and how she would receive
his wife.
He did not feol at all ashamed of his
American Nora—her milliners were so truly
delightful that the customs of high-bred so
ciety did not embarrass her in the least, and
none that did not actually know of it sus
pected her low birth —but then lie did have
a fear that the young Countess, or her fath
er, knowing who Nora was, would wound the
feelings of his gentle wife by their air of
patronage.
The carriage stopp'd in front of one of
those palaces with which the larger Italian
cities abound, aud the party alighted and
were ushered through the marble portals
into a beautiful apartment to await the
Countess.
CHAPTER XXX.
Lady Betty after her marriage spent sev
eral months in travel with her husband
aud father, anil then to fulfill her benevo
lent design for the assistance of Nora, ro
querted to Ik: taken to Florence with tho in
tention of remaining some time.
bo accordingly one of those picturesque
palaces was taken for the season, with its
marble halls and balustrades aud vine
wreathed columns.
As soon as the bridal party were rested
from the effects of their travels, Betty sent
their cards to Sir Arthur and his wife, and
thought how kind and gracious she was in
recognizing thus—this low-bom American
girl—and expected to bo reoojvtid with evi
dences of the deepest gratitude.
But she would give no cause lor Arthur
to think she did not regal’d No rains an equal
—not she! —for had she not comatoF orence
for the benevolent purpose of training this
rustic beauty so that Sir Arthur need not
be ashamed to present her to his friends.
She fully expected to meet a coats?,
country beauty with no manner, no style
and with a loud, coarse voice, making the
young lord start at every sound lest she
should display her ignorance still further.
These were" tho young Countess’ thoughts
as she sat m tho garden with her husband
and father enjoying the soft, balmy Italian
air ami inhaling the fragrance of the flow
ers while eating a delicious refreshing ice.
Visitors were announced and the young
lady read the names of “Lord Dudly, Sir
Arthur Beaeonsfield aud wife.”
“Papa, Sir Arthur and his lady,” said
Betty, handing her father the cards.
“Ah!” replied he, reading them, “beseems
somewhat in haste to introduce his Ameri
can rustic.”
“Aye,” echoed the Count, “I should think
it better to keep her more retirod until ho
felt sure of her position.”
Betty looked at her father and husband
reproachfully and remarked:
“Why, papa! husband! I sent dur cards
to Ixith.”
“Yes, that was all very well; but) in high
born society such people should jbe kept
back,” replied the young Count with ill
disguisod annoyance at the prospect of be
ing presented to this low-tiorn American.
The face of Betty showed the distress she
felt at these words.
“Promise me,” cried she, placing a hand
beseechingly on an arm of each gentleman,
"promise me that no matter how dispensed
you may feel with Sir Arthur’s wife that
you will be polite to hor for his sake—for
mine.”
The gentlemen seeing her evident distress
promised.
Betty kissed thftn most affectionately and
led the way to the drawing room to receive
their guests.
As tho young Countess entered the draw
ing room where her visitors were awaiting
her Sir Arthur advanced eagerly to meet
her, and their greeting was most kindly—
and then Lord Dudly welcomed her most
cordially to Florence, and then taking Bet
ty’s plump, jewelled hand in his own and
not waiting for Sir Arthur, he led her to
Nora who was seated with graceful ease on
a divan, her sweet face beaming with pleas
ure that her beloved husband was again be
ing united to his friends.
There was ill-concealed surprise and em
barrassment as Lord Dudly presented the
beautiful, refined Lady Nora to the young
Countess and then to Lord Ernst and the
Count as “my dear daughter”—tho “my
daughter” expressing all the pride and af
fection Lord Dudly felt for the lovely image
of his wife.
The air of patronage Lady Betty had in
tended using toward the young plelxran
wife—was forgotten, and acting in accord
ance with her impulsive anti affectionate
nature, she clasped the beautiful girl to her
and kissed her rapturously, exclaiming:
“Lady Nora, you are so lovely, 1 adore
you! 1 never had a sister and 1 havo so
longed for oue—be my sister!”
The sweet girl returned the loving caresses
delightedly, and all thoughts of low-birth
was banished from the minds of her enter
tainers.
Lord Ernst understood the fancy of Lcrel
Dudly for Nora as he noted with sur
prise the striking resemblance to Lady Dud
ly, whom he had loved so passionately and
mourned so sincerely.
Sir Arthur was much pleased with tho in
ception given liis fair wife, and more so
when he found she had such a loving aad
devoted friend in his old playmate Betty.
“Como and see our boy,” said Nora, as she
bade adieu to the young Countess.
“0, papa! dear husband! Is she not love
ly!” crieu tho excited Betty, so delighted
was she with her new friend.
“She certainly is beautiful,” replied Lord
Ernst, patting his daughter’s rosy cheek.
“That angelic creature is never of loiV
origin; there is some mystery about heir
that neods explaining,” said the Count;
thoughtfully.
“She is the exact likeness of Lord Dudly’sl
late wife, and wore it not that 1 saw the'
bodj T of life dea l child myself in the coffin
with its mother I should say tills child was
Ludy Dudly’s,” said liord Ernst.
“O, papa! is that why Lord Dudly lovos
her so r cried his daughter.
"Yes, niv child, I think it is—although it
would lie eifey to love her for her own sweet
self, for I imagine she is as good and lovely
in character as she is in person. ”
“There is a mystery somewhere—that girl
never belongs to low people. She is t,<o an
gelic mid too relhiod for that," insisted tho
Count.
“O, I shall love her dearly!” exclaimed
Betty, clasping her dimpled hands with de
light. “Khe fe so sweet!”
Gird Ernst and tho Count smiled at bar
enthusiasm.
“1 wonder where Sir Arthur found her?”
asked Alsloigh.
"Somewhere in the wilderness of tho
United States, I believe,” replied Lord
Ernst.
Many Englishmen who havo not visited
the Units'll States still think that the coun
try is still in its wild state with its original
inhabitants yet roaming widely over its
plains.
“Whore did Lady Dudly die!” questioned
the Count.
Lord Ernst thought a moment and then
said:
"Why, I believe somewhere in the United
States, hut I do not know cMi taiuiy.”
“Do you remember the looks of Dudly’s
dead child?” again asked Alsleigh.
"Ye*, I remember being surprised that it
was no dark while Dudly anu Ludy Nora
were so fair. ”
“Ah! aud both boar the name of ‘Nora!’ ”
exclaimed tb Count.
“Why, dear,” cried Betty; “you.surely do
not think this is really Lord Dudiy’s
daughter, do you!’’ exclaimed Betty, her
eyes large with surprise.
“I do not know, but it is strange.”
CHAPTER XXXI.
No two sisters could have be n more de
votedly attached to each other than Betty
and Nora.
Scarcely a day passed that they did not
meet and hold sweet communion together.
And yet thoy were so directly opixisito to
each other in appearance, disposition and
taste —both beautiful but entirely different.
Betty’s beauty was of tho dashing, saucy
style—while Nora’s was of the ethereal
type, which attracts most worshippers at
its shrine.
“Come and seo my boy,” had been Nora’s
invitation, proud in her mother-love of this
her sweet possession.
And Betty did go to see him, and soon,
very soon tho tiny feet were trotting utter
“auntie” and asking for "doodles" to her
heart’s content —for she had learned to love
the sweet prattler as quickly as she had his
beautiful mother:
Little Arthur was now in life third. year
and was grow ing into a stout, handsome
boy. Without being bad he was a mis
chievous little sprite, always ready for a
romp, and lietwreen “grandpa, auntie and
papa” he had fun to his heart’s content.
liis "nitty mamma” ho loved dearly, and
he could leave his play at any time to do her
bidding—he would lie in her arms lor hours
and listen to her sing.
“Tiny, pitty mamma, tiny!” lisw>d the lit
tle fellow’, as soon as his mamma was seated
and lie cuddled in her arms.
And Nora, with her sweet voice, would
sing to him untiringly until the bright eyes
were heavy with sleep aud the fringed eye
lids drooped.
As yet, his grandma had never seen this
grandson, but she sent many sweet messages
and pretty gifts, and the little boy knew
g’an’ma by these and her picture—of liis
other grandparents Nora never spoke—why,
she did not Know —but since her removal
from her home the way of life of that
rough place seemed so unnatural, so differ
ent from her tastes and desires that she felt
almost as if it had lieen a dream of a fitful
imagination.
She liked the idea of being an American
—she did not think—no matter what might
happen that she would disown the land of
her birth.
Nora sent loving messages to Timmy and'
Mag, and received Timmy’s rough scrawls
in reply, with a message or so from Mag.
Nora s int them many presents, not forget
ting “Samp,” with which they were all do
lighted.
Margaret made her “bonnie boy” and his
wife many a stool hy visit, und carric and
home glowing accounts of Sir Arthur’s
happy homo, his sweet wife aud the wonder
ful boy.
Time passed on and a girl was born o
them with light hair aud olue eyes like iis
mother, and Margaret came to be present at
this little one’s christening also.
Lady Noru was most anxious that this
little one should be called “Aline” after tl o
Countess—but Sir Arthur, much as ho loved
his mother, urged that the babe should bo
“Noru" after its own sweet mother and Lord
Dudly’s deceased wife.
Lord Duilly was more than pleased with
this compliment and thanked the young
folks most heartily—he had been to them as
a much-loved parent, and now made his
home entirely with them, surrounding them
with luxuries that even with Sir Arthur’s
largo income lie felt that ho could not af
ford.
Little Arthur divided his time between
homo and “auntie’s," and it was only liis
nuturally docile disposition that prevented
him being thoroughly spoiled.
Betty was godmother to the little Nora,
and dearly ilia she love the sweet babe so
liko its mother.
Every ono had forgotten Nora’s differ
ence in rank, and thought only of her own
sweet seif.
The babe was four months old and grow
ing more Intel-eating every day, and its
mother hod grown strong and well again.
A letter was received from Timmy telling
his “darter" that Mag’s health had com
pletely failed aud she had taken to her bed.
The news distressed Nora vory much,
but tho cares of hor liubo and boy fori wide
her hastening to the bedside of her mother
much as she longed to do so.
Ono bountiful balmy day Ixird Dudiv was
sitting on a rustic sent on tho balcony en
joying the delightful breeze when Nora
brought hor babe and'put her in hfe arms as
she used to do the little Arthur. She had
placed the small chain with its tiny locket
around the child’s neck which Mag had given
to herself on parting.
Lord Dudly’s quick eye discerned the
trinket, and before Nora could prevent him
he caught the locket in his hands and saw
the initials “N. D.” engraved thereon, and
pressing the spring tho lids flew open, dis
closing the miniature of Lady Dudly and
one of himself, tliken in early manhood.
For a few moments his emotions were too
great for utterance.
Nora, frightened at his appearance, cried:
“Father, dear father—what is tho mat
ter!”
Lord Dudly, controlling liis emotions as
best he could, replied:
“My child, where did you got this!”
Nora, looking at him with surprise, an
swered :
“Mother gavo it to me just before I left
home, and told me not to open it until I was
far away from home.”
• “Where did she gel/it?”
“That Ido not know—she did not say.”
“Did you never see the contents before?”
asked Lord Dudly, looking at hor with a
yearning look as a now idea entered liis
mind.
“No. She said it might be a benefit to
me some day, butdid not say what.”
Lord Dudiv handed hor the open locket,
and she beheld to her astonishment herself—
only clad in a different style—and u manly
fare thnt resembled Lord Dudly, only
younger.
Nora looked at him inquiringly, and tho
gentleman explained with much emotion:
“That picture, my child, was my dearly
boloved wife, and so like you that were it
not for the different style of wearing the
hair I should take it for you—and the other
is myself when first married.”
Kir Arthur now joined them and present
ly B tty, accompanied by Lord Ernst and
the young Count.
The miniature's wore shown them and the
circumstances explained.
“My lord,” exclaimed Alsleigh, “there fe
a mystery somewhere, and 1 am sure if this
tidy (pointing to the miniature) was your
dear wife, you ([minting to Nora) is your
[awn dear daughter.”
“O, if it were only so! if it were onlv
*9!” cried Lord Dudly, gazing at Nora witU
great yearning,
"My lord, if it fe not too painful, re
count the story of your joumev und your
wife’s sad death,” asked Lord Ernst, now
convinced that Nora was more to Dudly
than ho knew, and therefore this strange
lovedp tween them.
Impel Dudly, with trembling voice, told
again tho story, told by Timmy, several
years’before.
“And this happened with the siine jicoplo
whore you met your wife!” asked the Count
eagerly of Sir Arthur.
“ Yes, her father told mo tho same story.”
"Then depend upon it there fe some mys
tery, and it only wants to be explained’ to
bring father and daughter together; and
that fntha- and daughter Lord Dudly and
Lady Nora,” cried the Count, getting ex
cited and /vigor to save this lovely lady
from the stigma of the English idea of low
birth.
“Is there tio sign, that wo can tell more
Bttrelyf’aslanl Lord Ernst.
“Now. I ptinemMr, lair father told mo
that there wteo a mark on Nora’s arm that
he had not',noticed on that of his own
child,” rcjilivi Arthur, as be remembered
the story.
“Let ino so<* it, my daughter! my child!”
exclaimed Lvd Dudly, trembling with
emotion.
Nora bared her beautiful, white arm, and
just above the elbow was a poculiar heart
sb.qicd rnola
Lard Dudijy gave a cry, and unbeuring
hi* own arm, discovered another mark pre
cisely like tint oh the arm of Nora.
All pressed forward to soe, and doubt was
instantly dispelled.
“My own daughter !”
“My dear, dear father!”
And Norn ami Lord Dudly were clasped
in each other’s arms in loving embrace.
Both were supremely lmppy, now that
they had found each other; for, although'
they had no legal proof, yet all doubt in
their minds was dispelled.
Many anti hearty were the congratula
tions the father and his daughter received
from tins little group of rejoicing friends
surrounding them, but all thought it best to
say nothing to the outside world until the
mystery was solved surely.
Lord Dudly again made hasty prepara
tions to again visit the United Stales and
wrest the truth from Timmy and Mag, in
some way, if possible.
In the midst of his preparations, a letter'
came from Timmy, urging Nora to come
home with all haste as Mag wits worse and
wanted to see herself anu Lord Dudly be
fore she died.
The children were given into the rare of
“Auntie Betty,” while they should be away
and father, husband and daughter started
on their way to the United States, niaking
all possible haste, lest they should bo too
late
They felt confident that all would now l>e
cleared in regard to Nora’s birth, and that
Lord Dudly could soon publish to the world
that ho hail found a daughter, and that
daughter the child of liis owu dear, dead
wife.
Arthur felt that now the stigma of low
birth was to bo lifted from his idolized
Nora, that there was a chance for recon
ciliation with his father and he felt delight
fully content, notwithstanding he was has -
tening to a death bed, that of the foster
mother of his darling.
Nora experienced a feeling of pleasure, >,
heretofore unknown, but the mystery of her
iife-was a bewilderment to her, and as yet
she did not realize it.
[TO HE CONTINUED. ]
Consumption, Scrofula, General De
bility Wasting Diseases of Children,
Chronic Coughs anil Bronchitis, can be
cured by the use of Scott’s Emulsion of
Pure Cod Liver Oil with Hypophosphites.
Prominent physicians use it and testify to
its great value. Please read tile following:
“I used Scott’s Emulsion for an obstinate
Cough with Hemorrhage, Loss of Appetite,
Emaciation, Sleeplessness, etc. AJI of these
tve now left, and I ls'lieve your Emulsion
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Texas.
v" ■-
EDUCATIONAL.
For Full Information of the Above School)
CAM. ON OB ADDRESS
HOENBTEIN Ac MACCAW,
lOi Bay Street, Savannah, Ga.
miX FEMALE COLLECT.
LaORANGE, ga.
/COLLEGE OF LETTERS, SHENCE AM
V ART. FACULTY OF SEVENTEEN.
Scholarship high. Library, Reading Room
Museum, mounted telescope, apparatus, twvn
one pianos, complete appliance*. Elocutioi
ami Fine Art attractions. In MUSIC the Mis>
Cox. directors; vocalist from Paris and Berlin
distinguished pianist and ladies' orchestra
Board and tuition, $207. School begins Sept.
MRS. I. F’. COX. JTeHident.
I^allrange, Ga.
ST. JOHN S COLLEGE,
Fordham, N. Y.
ITNDER the direction of Jesuit Fathers: i
beautifully situated in a very picturewju*
and healthy part of New York county.
The College affords every facility for the beat
Classical, Heieutiflc and Commercial education
Board and Tuition jmr year. $9OO.
Studies will bo resumed. September 7, 1887.
For further particulars apply to
Uisv. THOMAS J. CAMPBELL, S. J. t
l*i •
Lucy Cobb Institute,
A-TIIKNS. GKOKGIA.
•
'■p'U' Exercises of this School will be resumed
1 SEPT TANARUS,
M. RUTHERFORD I>uiN( ipat.
Rome Female College.
(Under the coutrol of the Synod of Georgia.)
Rome, Qt
Rev.M. M. CALDWELL, President.
r pHIRTV-FIHST year liegins Monday, Kkpt 5.
JL I(W7. I'oroirculai A and information address
S. C. CALDWELL,
Rome. iia.
OT. MARY'S SCHOOL FOR OIKI.S. Raleigh.
IO N. Established ill I*l'.!. For Catalogue
address the Rector, Rev. BENNETT SMEDES.
‘‘The climate of Raleigh is one of the best In
the world.”— Bibhoi’ Lyman.
STOVES.
n rrv n Hi
lie I ms look Stove.
WE HAVE RECEIVED the agency for this
nopalur Stove (over 100,000 In use), and
take pleasure In offering the n I to our customer*
It is heavy, diirulds. and took first prize a I
Pennsylvania State Fair for baking. It has all
the latest improvement*, including ventilated
oven.
CORNWELL A (,'HI PM AN,
Odd Fellow*’ Building.
JO
TX ncLerta^fcer,
Maeonto 'l’emple,
CORNER LIBERTY AND WHITAKER STS,.
Residence. lib Ahc.com.
DRY GOODS,
PRESIDENT CLEVELAND
AND LADY
TO BE TENDERED AN INVITATION
TO -VISIT SAVANNAH,
And the Public in general of this City and Vicinity In
vited Especially this Week
By Gray & O’Brien
To Witness Their Grand Clearing Out, Sale of Summer
Goods, which will be Closed out
Regardless of Profit.
Do not enter with a nervous, timid, Irresolute gait, but
walk boldly into the Square-Dealing Hive of Industry.
Our neighbors started the Fire of Reduction, but they
could not keep it burning. Their fuel gave out, leaving
GRAY & O’BRIEN to keep up the blaze,
Our Pluck, Sagacity and Determination have been the
means of keeping prices down.
list 111 His Pi] Goods dims In Loaded,
Charge them to the muzzle. Bring them to bear upon us,
and you will find us the toughest metal
ever moulded into live humanity.
The Batteries have opened fire along the entire line, and
behold the following grand results:
4 cases Pertshire Colored Lawns at 24c.
3 bales 4-4 Sea Island at file.; cheap ut Bc.
2 cases 4-4 Bleached Shirting, lightweight, at 6c.;
worth Bc.
50 pieces Fine White Persian Lawns at 10c.; worth double.
25 pieces Colored Satoeus, choice patterns, at 10c.;
worth 18c.
50 dozen Children's aud Misses’ Ilose at 15c.; worth from
30c. to 50c.
75 dozen Gents’ Unlaundried Shirts at 60c.; we consider
them cheap at 75c.
50 dozen Gauze Underwear to be closed out at big bargains.
20 dozen White Bed Spreads at 75c. and $1; will cost us
more to duplicate. •
50 pieces of Summer Silks (fine grades) to be offered at
New York actual cost.
G3 pieces Colored Batiste Lawns at 8 1-3 cents; reduced
from 124 c.
1 big job lot of White Embroideries at 10c. a yard;
heap at 15c. and 20c.
10 pieces left of that Unbleached Linen Drill for Pants at
20c; very cheap at 30c.
49 pieces Egyptian and Oriental Laces to be closed out
at a sacrifice.
A big lot of Ladies’ and Gents’ Handkerchiefs, on con
signment, we will sell cheap.
A big lot of Remnants of Black Goods to be closed out
this week.
A big lot of Remnants of Silks of all descriptions; name
ymir own price.
15 pieces Bleached and Unbleached Table Linens just re
ceived; we will offer at a bargain.
23 pieces White Plaid Mulls at Bc., 10c., 124 c. and 15c.;
these are the reduced prices.
A big consignment of Boys’ Pants and Suits, perfect fit
ting goods, to be sold cheap.
SPECIAL.
•
The most elegant line of Nice Silk Parasols ana Sun
Shades ever produced in Savannah. Any lady or gentleman
can be suited in this line. Gents’ Nice Silk Umbrellas a
specialty. We handle the most popular Silks in this line,
aud the wearing gives the best satisfaction. We handle
(please bear in mind) the most reliable goods.
Come and see the announced aud unannounced bargains
At 147 Broughton Street.
Gray & O’Brien.
Greers Receive Careeue Attention.-ASA
5